Schlafzeit by P.J. Hannola "Flashbacks coming in every night, don't tell me everything's alright." -Peter Gabriel I open my eyes. Nothingness. I can't see anything. In fact, none of my senses are registering a single thing. I'm lying down on nothing, but even so, I am not falling. Incredibly disorienting. It feels like a slim chance at best, but I try imagining a bed under me. Walls and a floor and a ceiling around me. For some reason I'm only slightly surprised to see it work. Clearly, my mind knows something I don't. I examine my new surroundings. It only takes a moment to realize it's the room on the top floor of my old student dorm building. This will do for now. I close my eyes. Sunrise. Several dozen figures clad in identical white outfits stand in precise lines in the shallow water of the holy river. Suddenly, with no visible or audible cue, they all start moving in unison. Their arms paint invisible circles in the air as they perform the sacred moves of their ancient art. So deep is their concentration, that they don't even notice as a new sun blinks into life above them. (The ship is on fire. You killed them all.) (No! It wasn't my fault.) I open my eyes. For a moment the room seems to flicker, like a hologram being turned off before solidifying again. Before becoming real again. It is horribly real. Suddenly it's all too much to take. I don't want this. I want to get out. Maybe an accident. I wonder how much plastic explosives on the first floor it would take to make the building collapse. This high, I'd surely not survive. I wait a while, but nothing happens. I close my eyes. Above the planet on a wing and a prayer. Nothing I can do now. The first ship has gone down the gravity well and now I see the second one is almost dead as well. There's a thousand little explosions all around it and still the energy beams keep on punishing it. The smaller fighters are even hunting down the few life pods leaving the ship. No one is to be left alive, said the orders. A massacre. There's not a thing I can do. It's not my fault. I open my eyes. The building is still intact. I'm still in the bed. More complex possibilities start coming to mind. I raise my arms straight up. A sword. If the blade was as long as my arms, I could grab the crossguard and thrust it down in my neck. I close my eyes. The hanging man comes to. He's upside down in darkness, just as promised. The handcuffs are easy, it takes no more than 10 seconds to get them off. Once his hands are free, he removes the mask. It's still dark, but he can see a sliver of light from under the door. The rope tied around his ankles takes a little more work. Reaching it puts him in a very awkward position and he has to let himself fall back down to rest a few times but eventually that too is done. He drops himself gracefully to the floor and (he's coming for you) checks the weapon racks in each corner of the room. He finally chooses a metal quarterstaff and proceeds to go out through the door. It has begun. I open my eyes. That was a weird one. I really would like to end this now. I raise my arms again and concentrate on the sword. It takes longer than the room (Does that make sense?) but ultimately one appears. The point of the blade on my neck feels cold and deadly. The crossguards in my hands, however, radiate warmth and strength. Maybe even the promise of peace. Whatever comes next, I welcome it. I pull the sword down towards my neck. It doesn't work. The blade, upon impact with my flesh, seems to turn into a kind of fine dust. Fuck. I close my eyes. I see... things. Very bad things. I see a man lying on the sidewalk, pouring gasoline over himself. I see an automated weapons system blasting rioters to pieces. I see the hate in the eyes of my prosecutor. I see people shooting shotguns in their mouths. I see a mother, drowning her baby child in a bathtub. I see the judge, reading me my sentence. I see huge ships tearing through space, bringing death and destruction to entire planets. I see all this, all the horror with a clarity that's completely terrifying. Please make it stop. Please! I open my eyes. The sword is gone. I look up and I see the ceiling fading. There should be stars visible, maybe even the moon, but there's only a black void. The walls start fading too. I can't see the floor but I imagine it's going the same way. Finally there's only me and the bed and the eternal darkness all around. I open my eyes. Back in my cell, I can see the sun is already up. It is time for me to get some rest. But first, I draw a single vertical line on the first page of my notebook. One night down, three thousand, six hundred and fifty-one to go.